For most of my life, I considered myself the “quiet kid.” I kept my mouth shut during class discussions and was afraid to say or do anything that I perceived as different from the norm. Rather than living life by my own terms, my decisions and actions were dictated by pestering thoughts that told me everyone was judging my every move.
By high school, I was tired of giving in to these fears. Instead, I did something terrifying: I tried out for the Mock Trial team. At first, my old fears and tendencies held me back from being successful in an environment where speaking out wasn’t just encouraged but required. When presenting, I spoke timidly, somehow afraid that speaking louder would magnify any illogical aspects of my arguments. Instead of trusting my instincts in the courtroom, I hesitated before making objections and constantly relied on older members’ advice on the examinations I wrote.
These failures only pushed me to work harder, as I refused to let my reserved nature damage my team’s scores. I began spending nights after school pacing my room to practice and reviewing Quizlets to master objections. Gradually, I noticed my presentation voice grow a little louder and my responses a little sharper. I started to enjoy the adrenaline of presenting legal arguments to a room of attorneys and judges instead of shying away from it.
Thankfully, my growth wasn’t just limited to my performance in the courtroom. I started sharing my ideas for case strategy at meetings, participating more in class and becoming the one to initiate plans among my friend group. My journey to becoming a more confident version of myself hasn’t been short or easy, but it has been rewarding. I’ve learned to appreciate moments of fear and discomfort because they’re often the ones that result in the most growth. While I’m proud of who I am today, I know I always have room to grow. So as I do, I’ll keep finding new proverbial courtrooms to step into, ready to speak my mind.